


The Hit

by lizook12



Series: Got a Ball Cap On [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1240618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never would have guessed she’d be such a diehard fan...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hit

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of the _Got a Ball Cap On_ series; see the first part for title disclaimers.

“I’m still not sure.” She narrows her eyes at him before turning back to the field to watch Peterson bat.

“Hey, it’s been washed since the last game.”

“I know, I think I insisted on it after you wore it to every judo lesson last week.” Sipping from her beer, she tilts her head towards his. “I’m just not sure wearing the same shirt you had on at the last game we came to is the best idea; we went into extra innings.” 

“But we won.” 

“In the bottom of the fourteenth inning.”

“It was an exciting game!” 

“Yes, it was, but by the time we got home—”

“It wasn’t any later than any other night when we’re actually out...” He leans close, breath ghosting over her jaw as his voice drops to a whisper. “ _Working_.”

“Well, that’s...” 

“Yeah?” His lips press together as he attempts to curb a smile. 

“Ok, fine, you caught me.” She tosses her arms in the air, mouth tipping up. “Extra innings are fun, but I felt like I needed to run a marathon afterwards I was so keyed up. I mean, it’s not a feeling I mind, really, but it just... it was hard to fall asleep and then that made the next day seem to stretch on and on and...” 

“I think I have a couple ideas of how we can burn off that extra energy, if need be.”

She can hear the suggestion in his tone and she grins, leaning back in her seat as the second inning comes to a close. 

She never would have guessed she’d be such a diehard fan—someone who knows not only team stats, but individual player information, the little quirks of each park, and even whether a manager will employ the squeeze play or not—but then a lot in her life has been such a surprise since meeting the broody, amazing man sitting next to her. 

Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she tugs her hat down, diamond catching in the fading sun. 

She runs her thumb over both bands before taking her hat completely off, frustratedly gathering her hair into a loose ponytail before threading it through the opening in the back of the cap. 

“Not cooperating?” His voice startles her as he leans across her and steals a fry from the cup balanced on the armrest next to her. 

“Just a little warmer out than I expected; I should’ve known to bring an extra tie.” 

“Mmm.” His mouth brushes over her jaw before he settles back into his seat, fingers absently trailing across the nape of her neck as the inning unfolds. “Do you think a QC softball league is doable?” 

“You want to add something _else_ to your schedule?”

“It would just be a couple afternoons—”

“How about we just sponsor a Little League team next year?” 

There’s only a slightly pause as he considers it and then...

“You have the best ideas; one of the many reasons I married you.”

“Oh?” She turns towards him, cheek turning into his hand as she does. “What are the other—” 

Her eyes widen, a harsh gasp catching in her throat as cold beer spills on her from above. 

Immediately the man in the row behind them starts apologizing, his words rushed yet sincere, but she can’t really focus. She’s sticky and smells like beer and—

She catches Oliver’s wrist, halting him as he begins to stand, jaw set in a way that she knows he’s ready to hit someone. 

“Napkins. Give me the napkins.” 

Shooting a final glare to the now red-faced man, he passes her a wad of napkins, keeping the rest for himself. As she begins blotting at her shoulders, he pats her hair dry, gingerly brushes some stray drops from her cheek. 

After he’s done as much as he can from where he’s sitting, he lifts off her hat, tossing it at his feet with the game program. “Do you need more napkins? Maybe some tissues? I could go buy a team towel in the—” 

“No, it really wasn’t that much.” She sighs, running her fingers through the damp ends of her hair. “My hat caught most of it.” 

“We’ll get you another one.” 

“I can wash it at home, and until then...” She flattens one palm on the armrest, lips rough against his throat as she leans as close as possible and tips his hat off. “I’ll just use yours.” 


End file.
